


variety is the spice of life

by grace_of_baal



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bottom Hannibal, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Top Will, Vulnerable Hannibal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 15:12:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5544701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grace_of_baal/pseuds/grace_of_baal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“In my professional opinion,” said Hannibal, “it would depend on the extent of our activities. I don’t think my condition is suited to anything requiring... vigorous movement of the abdominal muscles.” </i><br/><i>Will tried to hold back a grin, but failed. “So, you mean... thrusting</i>.”<br/><br/>Post-finale. Will thinks receptive sex would be easier for the still-recovering Hannibal, and Hannibal agrees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	variety is the spice of life

**Author's Note:**

> Not something I thought I'd ever write; it just happened, I guess. Uh, enjoy?

Hannibal was in the armchair with a book and his usual cup of coffee, a picture of comfortable domesticity. The morning light streaming through the gaps in the curtains was making his hair shine silver and gold, but also illuminating the new lines etched in his face. Will’s heart constricted in affection for the man as he went to join him in the living room, planting a light kiss to his cheek before going to the fridge to rummage for something to drink. Hannibal gave a soft, contented hum in response.

Will grinned to himself. If he hadn’t known better and was told that this was Hannibal Lecter, convicted cannibalistic mass murder and sentenced to life in the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, he would not have believed it.

“Good morning, Will,” said Hannibal pleasantly, his eyes still on his book.

“Sleep well?” Will poured himself some milk, frowning as his bad shoulder gave an unpleasant twinge like it occasionally did.

“Yes.”

“That's good.” This was not simple small talk. Though progress had been slow, Will was immensely relieved that Hannibal was healing without complications; it was something they could not afford to let happen. Hannibal continued to read while Will wordlessly downed his milk, too many thoughts swirling in his head like usual. When he finished, Will put down the empty glass, its surface clouded by the milk. He stared at it as he spoke. “I was thinking… both of us might be well enough now to...” He paused, searching for the right word. “Well enough to fuck.”

He had become bolder and brasher since the night they fought Dolarhyde, feeling the need to fill the silent spaces Hannibal often left in the air during his arduous physical recovery. Hannibal didn't show any signs of objecting to this. He never reprimanded Will for profanity or vulgarity, either, which came as a surprise to the younger man. At first, he had wondered if Hannibal was conserving precious energy by staying quiet, but as they both got better it became clear that it was not the case. Will came to the tentative conclusion that Hannibal actually enjoyed his brutally honest remarks, or found them entertaining enough to tolerate at least.

In line with his recent reserved behaviour, Hannibal's eyes glinted with amusement, his brow lifting into an elegant arch. He only said, “Oh?”

Will shrugged, “Maybe not. I know I am.” He looked pointedly at where the bullet wound lay beneath Hannibal’s linen shirt. “But I'm not the one who got myself shot in the gut. You?”

“In my professional opinion,” said Hannibal, putting a palm over the spot, “it would depend on the extent of our activities. I don’t think my condition is suited to anything requiring… vigorous movement of the abdominal muscles.” Even as he said this, Will could detect the faint anticipation lingering in his voice — a nearly childlike giddiness, or something close to it, mirroring exactly what was dancing in his own heart.

Will tried to hold back a grin, but failed. “So, you mean.... thrusting.”

“I suppose that falls under the umbrella, yes.” Hannibal was somehow completely straight-faced. He never ceased to impress Will.

“I thought so,” the younger man sighed, getting up to put the dirty glass in the sink. “Well, there might be another way, but…” Will trailed off, letting the unfinished sentence hang in the air.

“You wish to penetrate me.” The words fell from Hannibal’s lips as easily as though he was discussing the weather. Will opened his mouth and closed it again, ducking his head to conceal the redness that had no doubt crept across his face already. He tried to speak but Hannibal was quicker. “I’d have no qualms about that,” he continued nonchalantly, and turned to pour himself more coffee. “Though I usually prefer insertive sex, variety is the spice of life.” He looked over at Will. “Is there a problem?”

“I… I just didn’t think…” Truth to be told, he had entirely overlooked the possibility. Hannibal exerted so much dominance and control in life that it was initially imperceivable to Will that he would even consider the option. There was something so exposing about being fucked; was it something Hannibal would allow? As Will's psychiatrist, Hannibal had dissected him as fully as possible, but Will had yet to learn Hannibal to such an extent. The notion of engulfing a partially unknown entity was admittedly inviting to Will.

Then there was also the fact that Hannibal was being remarkably candid in discussing his sexual preferences, which was also something Will hadn't quite expected. “I've done it with men before, you know. But… I was the one being fucked.” Will shrugged. “They were usually bigger than me, and their egos matched. It wasn’t the first thing that came to mind, I guess.”

“I've always been open to all experiences, Will. This is hardly anything exotic, as you’ll soon find.” Hannibal answered Will's questioning glance with a rather devilish smirk, not elaborating further. Will, returning the smile, filed away this information for later reference.

“I guess being on the receiving end would be less hard on you, physically…” Will flopped down in a chair across from Hannibal in mock-resignation.

“That remains to be seen,” said Hannibal, “but it would definitely require less _thrusting_ on my part.” He was smiling, still.

“Mhm, sounds good to me. You can just lie back and relax, I'll do the work.”

“I’d like to finish my book first, if you don’t mind.” Will was happy to spend his morning doing nothing but watching Hannibal do just that.

* * *

Hannibal kept his word, though it took him most of the day before he set down his book. Will had the sneaking suspicion that he had taken his time, but he could hardly complain now, settled comfortably in bed with him with their clothes strewn over a nearby chair. 

Hannibal stroked Will’s cheek, now more or less fully mended after its perforation by Dolarhyde’s knife. His beard covered it well enough, but he could feel Hannibal’s gaze on it on a regular basis. The man treasured it, just as he did all of the other marks injuries had left on Will. Will wondered if Hannibal worshipped his own scars in such a way, for he too bore many of them, more than Will had realized. As his fingers passed over the raised and discoloured remainder of the Verger brand on Hannibal’s back, he didn’t miss the subtle stiffening of his muscles. Perhaps Hannibal hated it as much as Will did — it simply seemed _wrong_ in that place, marring what used to be a specimen of immaculate put-togetherness... Will had wished many things on Hannibal, but humiliation and degradation were never among them. Not that Hannibal was one to be easily fazed.

Will couldn't resist touching where Dolarhyde's bullet had pierced Hannibal, both the front and back. Hannibal held him tighter when he did, not out of pain or discomfort. The wound was a memento of that night, normally hidden away unlike Will's scarred face, but so much more potent in that it had nearly cost Hannibal his life. Though they had never spoken of it, Will understood its significance, and it made him naively optimistic for everything that lay ahead. _We survived this; we survived the Dragon. We can survive anything_. 

Staying silent, Hannibal kissed Will, warm and moist. His hand went down Will’s front, arriving at the crotch, and Will quivered when he felt his grip around him. Heat rushed to his middle as Hannibal stroked him at an infuriatingly measured pace. Will bucked against him, breaking their kiss to take a hasty breath, then proceeding to rub slow circles on Hannibal’s nipples. He grunted softly, catching Will’s lower lip between his teeth and tugging playfully. Will was acutely conscious of their erections brushing against each other, sending jolts of sensation through him each time. His hands explored Hannibal’s body as he received the same treatment; he intended to memorize every curve and surface of it, every scar and imperfection. Hannibal was malleable beneath him, responding to Will's every touch with shivers and trembles, and Will knew he was reacting no differently.

 _We're each other's greatest weakness_ , he thought. _Good thing we're in bed together, then._ And how natural it felt, like their bodies were moulded to tessellate perfectly with each other.

At last, Will had reached the limits of his self-restraint. He disentangled himself from Hannibal, who all but growled in protest at the sudden loss of contact; Will fumbled for the lube and condoms he had placed on the bedside table earlier.

“Try to relax.” Hannibal did as he was bid, lying prone on his back, and Will busied himself by thoroughly lubricating his cock and pulling on the condom. He was already painfully hard, desperate to finally reach this new level of intimacy with Hannibal. Nervous, also, but mostly lustful. Will made quick work of loosening Hannibal up for him with his fingers; Hannibal was receptive and took the digits with ease, despite what he had said about preferring to be the penetrator. They were as comfortable with each other as they could possibly be.

Will’s voice was hardly above a whisper, the head of his cock brushing Hannibal's entrance. “Ready?”

“Ready,” murmured Hannibal, his flitting fingers betraying his anticipation.

Will pushed in with deliberate gentleness. Hannibal’s back arched, as taut as a strung bow, and Will could hear the tiny gasp that escaped his throat as his length slid all the way in. At Will's first tentative stroke, Hannibal let out a low groan, his hand curling in the sheets and one arm going over his face.

“Are you okay?” Will said into empty space, hesitant and ragged, his pulse elevating at the tight hotness around his cock.

“Just splendid,” Hannibal replied, somewhat muffled by the arm. Will tried another slow but deep in-and-out movement, and he sighed blissfully. “Y-yes… just like that…” Will obliged, careful to not appear overly eager. He wondered if he had hit the prostate — judging by Hannibal’s reactions, it may as well have been the case. For several moments he was content to watch Hannibal’s body as it laboured to accommodate the foreign object within it, a striking combination of tension and ecstasy. Will cast a final, doubtful glance at the still-raw and puckered bullet hole in Hannibal's gut before beginning to move in earnest.

The older man's breaths were loud in the otherwise silent room, mingling with Will's grunts of effort and the occasional slaps of skin against skin. Gaining in confidence, Will's thrusts began to pick up speed. Incoherent hisses were coming from Hannibal, now, and all it did was to arouse Will further. The rippling of muscle as Hannibal writhed in the bed was unbearably erotic, making Will's breath catch. His fingers were clenched on Hannibal's legs as he moved his hips, digging deeply into the flesh there and bound to leave marks.

Will too was crying out from his own pleasure, his eyelids fluttering. This was sex like he'd never experienced before, elevated by everything that had transpired between him and Hannibal over their intertwined lives. He couldn't recall anyone regarding him like Hannibal was now, drinking in every detail of him like he was a painting. Will's heart was pounding so hard that he was afraid it might burst from his breast, and he knew it wasn't due to physical exertion, but entirely Hannibal's fault. Will forced his blurring vision back into focus, taking in the sight of Hannibal laid bare before him.  _Jesus. You're... you're_ _beautiful_. He didn't say it out loud, but hoped Hannibal could see it written across his face.

“I want to be closer to you,” said Will breathlessly, and drew his still-hard cock out; his own garbled voice sounded alien to him, like something that didn't belong in this space. Hannibal exhaled unsteadily and tilted his chin down to meet Will's gaze. As he hauled himself upright, his lips pulled into a smirk, briefly flashing teeth. They were suddenly eye-to-eye, and Will, who was on his knees on the mattress, felt his heart skip a beat at seeing Hannibal like this — hair mussed, cheeks flushed and pupils dilated, lips slightly parted. Warmth bloomed in his middle, distinct from the heat emanating from his groin.

Hannibal placed a hand on his shoulder, and Will let himself be pushed into a sitting position against the headboard. The older man had stopped to squeeze more lube onto his fingertips, which he proceeded to apply in generous amounts to both his entrance and Will’s throbbing cock. Will twitched when Hannibal touched him there, cool and slick, and lovingly Hannibal rubbed his thumb over the head — Will had to bite back an expletive.

His gaze trained unwaveringly on Will, he straddled him, his sinuous form sensual and shining with perspiration. At Hannibal’s sly smile, Will realized he was moaning as he sank down onto him. The twisting of his face as he adjusted to the girth again was inexplicably attractive and a wholly new sight, at which Will couldn't help but lean in to pepper him with more kisses. As he did so his hands kneaded Hannibal's chest, firm pectorals and hair shifting under his palms; tendons were standing out in Hannibal’s straining neck as his body was subjected to Will’s ministrations. Adrenaline coursed through Will, the thrill of having so much power over _Hannibal Lecter_ impossible to convey in words.

Will pushed upward with his hips and Hannibal shuddered over him, his face buried in Will's collarbone; then he began to move, grinding slowly along the length of Will's erection. Will felt another undignified noise leak from his mouth, his brain unable to retain control. His hands travelled down to Hannibal's lower back where they gripped him and guided his course, urgent and grasping. He wondered if he was going too fast, too hard — but Hannibal uttered not one word of protest, merely gasping and panting next to Will’s ear. Will slid one hand down Hannibal's heaving belly, following the trail of hair down the naval until he arrived at the stiff cock. Taking a moment to caress the head, glistening with precum, he then began to jerk him off with assured, rhythmic motions.

“Ah, Will -” Hannibal's words were rough and slurred, but sounded better to Will than any of that existential philosophy he normally spun. He was clutching at his flank with one hand, as if that would prevent the flesh from tearing, keep him from falling apart at the seams. Will fuzzily thought that this hadn't been the best decision considering Hannibal's health, but it was a mere afterthought amidst his approaching climax. He couldn't tell if Hannibal was biting his lip from pleasure or pain. He trusted him to know his limits… but seeing him now, doubt of that took root in Will. No matter; what was the worst that could happen?

Hannibal had pulled away slightly, far enough that Will had a clear view of his face. They met eyes, and for a moment Will was lost in those dark depths, so full of reverence and adoration, as well as a hint of predatory hunger, lurking. He supposed there not being any danger to this endeavour would strip it of its allure. Will wanted to break eye contact, but he couldn't tear his gaze away. Hannibal always did posses a certain magnetic quality, he noted ruefully. Otherwise, he wouldn't be here right now...

Their movements were reaching a heated, erratic crescendo. Will could no longer hold back, and he orgasmed, hips jerking and the world going white. Hannibal's name had burst from his throat as he did, the syllables mangled and barely recognizable. He doubted Hannibal had noticed nor cared, because his climax came soon after. Will felt the cum land on his stomach, and he fell back against the pillows, limbs gone lax, Hannibal reassuringly weighty on top of him. His nerves were swimming in endorphins, skin pleasantly warm and tingling; he eased his softening cock out from Hannibal, who rolled off of him and to the side.

Curling up against Will, his eyes were half-closed, his mouth arranged in a suggestion of a smile. He looked so young to Will right now, with his unkempt hair and that expression — it was the closest Will had seen to innocent happiness, coming from him. How long they lay there for, completely still and limbs entangled, Will couldn't say. He wished he could stay this way forever, basking in the other's warmth, mind mostly clear of intrusive thoughts. At last, however, Hannibal shifted over to sit on the edge of the bed, and the empty space he left was palpable to Will. He began to wipe himself off with tissues that had been sitting on the bedside table.

Will said, a little hoarse, “Hey… are you feeling all right?”

“Yes, thank you for asking.” Hannibal sounded sincere but partly absent, shifting his weight as he tossed the used tissues into the garbage. Will saw him glance down at his wounded stomach, apparently not seeing anything of note.

“Are you sure?” Will said, aware of how unnecessary the question was, and also increasingly aware of the dull aches that were growing in his recent injuries. There was little way Hannibal was feeling any better.

Hannibal nodded, playing along. “I enjoyed myself.”

Will sidled next to him, also sitting up and resting his chin on his shoulder. “Did you do it often before?” He asked before he could think better of it. _Before you landed yourself in prison_. He didn’t need to add the latter thought.

“Perhaps.” Hannibal tilted his head and gave Will a teasing quirk of the lips. "There should remain some mystery to my life, no?"

“Oh, come on.” Will grumbled, rolling his eyes. “With men. Did you do it with men often?”

Hannibal answered easily, “It never felt quite the same as tonight.”

“I guess I'll take that as a compliment.”

There was a rare twinkle in his eyes. “It was meant as one, of the highest kind.”

Will chuckled quietly and put his forehead against Hannibal, saying, "I wouldn't mind taking lessons in flattery from you, one day." His fingers absently snaked through Hannibal's silvering hair, still shorter than he was used to. "Speaking of which, Hannibal. You said you like variety? What were the ‘exotic’... _activities_ were you referring to earlier?”

“Patience, Will. I told you that you'll find out soon enough.”

Will snorted. “I figured you might say that. I'll be looking forward to it, then.”

Hannibal cupped Will around the head and pulled him in for another kiss, their lips melding like they were meant to be. In the arms of this _monster_ , as people called him, Will felt impossibly whole. This monster had opened himself up completely to him, trusted him enough to do so, and trusted him to give him even more in the future. It was a privilege of sorts, thought Will. He wondered how many people Hannibal allowed to fuck him in the past. Perhaps it didn't matter, for Hannibal had told Will too many times of his uniqueness. He settled on believing that Hannibal was telling the truth when he said this night was unlike any other.

"So will I. It'll be a pleasure to show you. With you, Will," Hannibal murmured into Will's ear, "I'd be willing to be even more adventurous." Will held his hand tight, smiling rather stupidly, even though it made his face hurt.


End file.
